Cordially Invited
by KateToast
Summary: You are cordially invited... WE. Set between CotBP and DMC.


**Disclaimer**: Don't own Pirates at all.

**XXX**

_On behalf of Governor Weatherby Swann…_

Elizabeth Swann languidly strolled around her bedchambers, her three women servants bustling about. She believed the soft smile on her face was going to be permanently stuck there, seeing as it had scarcely left her for weeks. She chanced a glance out the window and saw that gray clouds were still forming, but her mood would not be hampered.

"Miss, if you could sit down, please," Sarah, the servant she'd grown closest to over the years, asked politely.

"Yes, of course," Elizabeth replied immediately, her voice sounding far away.

There was a knock at the door and all four women glanced over as the governor entered the room, his eyes covered by a hand. "Are you decent?" he inquired, somewhat embarrassed.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "Yes, Father, I am."

Governor Swann let his arm fall to his side and took in his daughter's appearance. And then frowned. "Elizabeth, you're not ready! You're expected in less than-"

"I know, I know," Elizabeth interrupted, her smile still intact. She stood and kissed her father on the cheek. "You don't think I'd honestly be late to this, of all events. Now if you leave us I can be ready in practically an instant," she told him.

The governor of Port Royal lifted his brow. "I highly doubt that. But I'm going, I'm going." He touched his daughter's cheek lovingly. "I shall see you soon, my dear."

_You are cordially invited…_

As her father vacated the room, Elizabeth's smile turned into a grin. She looked out the window once more and still could not care about the obvious rain clouds.

"Please, Miss Swann, we must get you ready. You heard the governor," Sarah prodded, the other two servants waiting, their hands full.

"Yes, yes, I'm sitting," she nodded, taking her spot at the vanity. The three women pounced on her at once, all three pairs of hands setting to work in her hair.

Elizabeth watched her reflection in the mirror, the happiness she felt inside shown in every aspect of her appearance. Her eyes strayed to the table in front of her, and she saw the invitation she'd read hundreds of times before.

_To the joyous occasion…_

"Are you nervous, Miss?" Sarah questioned after silence had stretched for quite a long time. The servant felt comfortable enough to converse freely with her mistress.

"It is a funny thing," Elizabeth confided. "I know I should feel nervous and fearful… but I don't. I don't feel anything but joy, and excitement."

"That's a good sign," one of the other servants, Rebecca, offered. "It means that everything is going to work."

"But aren't you worried about the weather?" Sarah let Elizabeth's wavy hair fall loosely from her grasp, but pulled back a chunk and tied it at the back of her head, slowly adding a small ring of flowers.

"Nothing can ruin this day," Elizabeth said assuredly, grinning.

_Of the union between…_

Her hair finished, the three women began with their mistress's makeup. Elizabeth watched the mirror as they lightly colored her eyelids, as they blushed her cheeks, as they glossed her lips. As the governor's daughter she'd always had others doing these sorts of things for her, but today it was different.

After today she would not longer be just the governor's daughter.

_His daughter, Miss Elizabeth Swann…_

Sitting there in silence gave Elizabeth time to think. Her thoughts strayed to her mother, Victoria, who had died when Elizabeth had been just nine. Victoria was the one person who would not be there today that Elizabeth most regretted. Though her mother had been dead for over ten years now, it still sometimes pained her.

Her father had done his best to raise her by himself. The months after Victoria's death had been extremely difficult, neither of them knowing what to do or how to move on. One night, just after her tenth birthday, he'd come home from Parliament and had informed his daughter that they were leaving London for Port Royal, a British naval base island in the Caribbean, and he was to be its governor.

After the news, Elizabeth had found any information she could on the place that would be her new home. Soon enough she'd learned almost everything there was to know about the Caribbean and ships and the ocean and, her favorite, pirates. She'd begun dreaming of meeting a pirate, getting into adventures, and for a time her mother's death had been pushed aside in favor of a wild imagination and swashbuckling tales.

The longing Elizabeth felt now for her mother's soothing voice and gentle touch, which had masked the stubborn and outgoing personality her daughter had inherited from her, could only be rivaled by the one other time she'd wished with all of her might for Victoria to be returned to her. Elizabeth had needed her mother's advice more than anything, especially on a subject that she would never tell her father about.

It had been a few years ago, when she had been around fifteen or sixteen. She'd noticed then-Captain James Norrington, obviously her father's favorite man in Port Royal, beginning to look at her no longer as a child, but as a blossoming young woman. But in addition to that, she'd also noticed someone else's lasting glances and exceptionally kind compliments.

_And Mr. William Turner II._

As Sarah draped a diamond necklace around her neck and fastened it in the back, Elizabeth remembered her first meeting with Will Turner. It had been on the voyage to Port Royal, and they'd come upon a destroyed and burning ship, its cargo floating in the water. But Elizabeth had seen something- a boy, passed out on a piece of flat wood.

The crew had gotten the boy onto the ship and had placed him on the deck, and Governor Swann had told his daughter that this boy, who looked to be her age or a year or two older, was now in her charge. And she had taken her role very seriously, making her first order of business to hide the pirate medallion he'd been wearing around his neck.

She knew how much the royal navy despised pirates, and she hadn't wanted this poor boy to get in trouble.

He'd been her first friend in her new home, and at first they'd seen each other almost every day. But as they grew older Will had become busy as an apprentice at the blacksmith's, and Elizabeth had found herself bound to more and more official events and meetings, leaving little time for her friend. They'd tried to steal a few hours to catch up as often as possible, and Elizabeth had found her stomach in knots and her head dizzy ever time they met. Will was growing to become a very handsome man.

Her father had apparently noticed it also, as well as the fact that his daughter was beginning to look just like his late wife, and he'd sat Elizabeth down one evening and had told her that she needed to stop spending time with Will Turner, that her propriety was at stake. He didn't want to have any more criticisms and questions regarding his daughter's honor made.

Elizabeth had cried and angrily stormed out, cursing her mother for being dead and not around to talk her through this trying time. But eventually she'd had no choice and had obeyed her father's wish, and she and Will had lost their friendliness in favor of polite greetings and mild conversations. Sometimes she hadn't been able to help herself, such as the day Norrington had become Commodore and Will had brought over the ceremonial sword.

That had been the day that had started everything, the day that had led them to this point.

_The twenty-fifth of April at two p.m…_

Elizabeth's smile returned as she thought of her soon-to-be-husband. She asked for the time and Rebecca told her it was one-fifteen. The carriage that would take her to the wedding spot overlooking the water would be arriving at one-thirty. She saw the storm clouds in full force out the window, but scarcely cared. The only thing that caught her attention for half a second was the distinct outline of a few large ships entering the bay, but she thought nothing of them.

"It's almost time, Miss," Sarah said, her eyes crinkling as her mouth turned up. She stepped back and Elizabeth took this as her cue to stand. The three servants nodded approvingly. Elizabeth twirled, even though she was only wearing her undergarments with a dressing gown over them.

Secretly, she briefly thought of after the wedding, after she and Will were husband and wife. The wedding night. She'd been looking forward to it since she'd first truly realized she'd fallen in love with Will, and tonight, she would get it. Just the idea of what they'd be doing later this evening made a small blush creep to her cheeks, but also made her stomach twist in anticipation.

_Proper dress required._

"Just the dress left," Sarah said, lifting the garment from where it was laid out on the bed. It was a beautiful dress, but very simple; a yellowish color with a white veil for her head. Elizabeth removed her dressing gown and handed it to one of the other servants, and Sarah helped her mistress step into the dress, then buttoned it at the back for her. No corsets today.

Rebecca added the veil last, and when Elizabeth took in her full appearance in the mirror, she felt like a queen. And she felt certain, more certain than she'd ever been about anything. She loved Will, even if he was only a blacksmith, even though he was a pirate at heart. It made her love him all the more.

Elizabeth grinned at her reflection as Sarah handed her the bouquet of flowers she'd carry down the aisle. The three servants then stepped back, and Elizabeth heard the pounding of horse hooves coming up the path to the mansion, and the sound of her father's voice as he cursed the weather and waved the carriage up to the door.

And she could see Will in her mind as he said _I do_, and then took her face between his hands and kissed her as her husband.

Hang the rain. Elizabeth Swann was getting married today, and nothing could ruin that.

**XXX**

_On behalf of Governor Weatherby Swann,  
__You are cordially invited  
__To the joyous occasion  
__Of the union between  
__His daughter, Miss Elizabeth Swann,  
__And Mr. William Turner II.  
__The twenty-fifth of April at two p.m.  
__Proper dress required._

**XXX**

_End._


End file.
